


Unspoken Agreement

by wesley2015remaster



Category: The Monkees (TV)
Genre: M/M, just a lotta fluff ya know, takes place after 'the success story', this is kind of just some drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:47:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26678446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wesley2015remaster/pseuds/wesley2015remaster
Summary: A continuation from Season 1, Episode 6: The Success Story, where Davy almost gets taken back to England by his grandfather.
Relationships: Davy Jones/Peter Tork
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	Unspoken Agreement

The Monkees had had many unforgettable moments together, but this was surely one that Davy Jones would always remember.

Davy was being taken away to England – away from the monkees. And when it was time to say goodbye, they had all had the unspoken agreement that they needed to remain perfectly put together on the surface. A small word of goodbye, a quaint handshake, and no tears shed – a perfect image of masculinity that was imperative to making everything less painful. That was how they were expected to get through things – put on a brave face and continue about their lives. That was just how it was.

And that was how it went. A quick handshake between Micky and Davy, as expected. Micky, being Micky, tried to lighten the atmosphere with a small joke, but it fell flat, and he hid himself behind Mike. Another quick handshake between Mike and Davy, who said nothing other than, “be good.” And though Davy’s eyes were glazed over with the threat of tears, and his voice was shaking, none of them said anything about it, and continued to pretend that nothing was out of the ordinary.

Peter, however, was never one to follow societal conventions, even less so than his fellow monkees. Before Davy could even lift his hand in anticipation for the customary handshake, Peter was shoving a parachute into his arms.

“In case he changes his mind on the plane,” Peter explained. And Davy was filled with so much love for the boy, he couldn’t help but genuinely smile, and pull his friend into a brief hug. To hell with the unspoken agreement. A few tears threatened to fall, but he blinked them back. Once the hug was over, he assembled himself to the way he had been with Micky and Mike. Except the silliness of Peter’s gesture left a bittersweet smile that lingered. It was a kindness that was unique to him, such a quintessentially Peter thing to do, and it made him realise how much he would miss that sort of thing. He would never meet anyone like Peter twice in a lifetime. He would never meet anyone that could ever compare to his friends.

“It’s gonna be good to see England, again,” Davy was able to say, and it was true, though it could never live up to his time in America. Davy left, with one last glance at his band members. Mike hadn’t stopped looking at his shoes, clinging onto the banister so hard his knuckles were turning white. Micky was turned away, still hiding behind Mike. And Peter was looking back at Davy, his eyes wide, and an insincere, closed-mouth smile on his face. Davy gave him a nod and closed the door behind him.

That was over an hour ago. They were driving home from the airport, and Davy was safe in the car. Mike still looked shaken up from having almost lost his friend, and was quietly driving, but Micky was ecstatic and didn’t stop talking about how they had annoyed Davy’s grandfather so much that they had convinced him to let Davy stay. And Peter … well he was just the same old Peter, and Davy wouldn’t have him any other way.

Davy and Peter sat side by side in the back seat of the car. Davy tentatively reached out and softly squeezed Peter’s knee. Peter smiled brightly in the way that he always did whenever gigs were going well, or when he was joking around with Davy, or on the days they scraped together enough spare change to buy ice cream. He squeezed the hand that was still on his knee, and their hands remained pressed together, one on top of the other for a few seconds longer than they should have. But that was just how Peter was, he played by his own rules. So Davy didn’t think too much about it. Or he tried not to, at least.

It had been a long day, and Micky and Mike went upstairs to their bedroom, so Davy and Peter did the same. The second the door shut Davy pulled Peter down into a tight embrace.

“Gee, Davy,” Peter giggled. “What’s that for?”

“Thanks for the parachute,” Davy said in reply, handing over the parachute Peter had given him. “Good thing I didn’t need it, because I was really considering it.”

Peter took the parachute without a word and set it down on the bed. He stood up again, looking down at Davy. Davy had the impulse to pull him down by the collar and kiss his cheek. Davy pulled back, embarrassed, and bashful. “Thanks again.”

“Thanks for what?” Peter asked. He was smiling still, with a light blush covering his cheeks.

“For just …” Davy said. “Being here.”

“Well, I’m always gonna be _here_ ,” Peter said. “You’re the one who almost got taken to England today.”

Davy chuckled and wrapped his arms around Peter again.

“Wow,” Peter said. “I didn’t think I did all that much for you to be thanking me so many times.”

“Maybe I’m just doing it now because I like it,” Davy replied. “You give good hugs, and I thought I’d never see you again.”

He half expected Peter to question him. _If it was just because he had almost left them, then why wasn’t he going around, cuddling up to Mike and Micky?_ A more suspicious person would have asked those questions. But Peter was too kind for his own good, and the thought to interrogate Davy’s motivations never once crossed his mind.

Peter sat on the edge of the bed, pulling Davy down with him, and onto his lap, holding him tighter. He buried his head into Davy’s shoulder. Davy thought he just might die. “It’s easier this way. Don’t have to bend down as much,” Peter explained

Davy lightly slapped him for the comment about his height and he could feel Peter smiling against his neck.

“We would have missed you, you know,” Peter said. Davy knew that that was Peter’s way of saying ‘ _I_ would have missed you.’ “Boy, you shoulda seen the way Mike was crying before we went to the airport to get you. We all were.”

“I would’ve missed you too,” Davy said. “More than anything.”

“You could’ve always run away,” Peter shrugged. “Though it might take a while to run from England to America.”

Davy pulled away from Peter’s arms, tugging at his own tie as he looked down at his position on Peter’s thigh. “What’re ya thinking about, Davy?”

“I kind of want to kiss you,” Davy whispered, looking up and finding himself eye level with Peter. He blushed bright red. With most people he had flirted with, he wasn’t this easily flustered. But Peter wasn’t most people. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have …”

“You can if you want to,” Peter said, and Davy’s eyes widened. His face felt unbearably hot, and Peter looked awkward and shy.

“Are you- are you sure?” Davy asked. He was sure he must have misheard him. It was too unreal. But Peter nodded, and Davy’s breath hitched.

Davy’s hands shook as he tentatively placed them on either side of Peter’s face. Peter never stopped looking into Davy’s eyes. His feet shuffled nervously on the floor. They seemed to sit there like that for an eternity. Davy took a deep breath, and leaned in, closed his eyes, and carefully pressed his lips against Peter’s. He still wasn’t sure if this were some trick his brain had come up with, and Peter hadn’t actually said he could do it. For all he knew he could be on the plane still, and this was all a dream. But Peter sure felt solid beneath him. And he had gone awfully still.

Davy realised how still Peter was, and pulled away, ready to apologise. Davy Jones had _never_ apologised for being a bad kisser – he never had to – but this whole ordeal was new territory for him, and he worried that Peter hadn’t enjoyed it. He was ready to say how it was all a mistake, and he didn’t know what had come over him. That he was just confused from the emotional rollercoaster he had been on that day, and that _actually_ he hadn’t wanted to kiss Peter at all, because that was weird and he was being weird, and they should both forget it ever happened. But he couldn’t get a word out, because before he was even an inch away from him, Peter’s hand shot to the back of Davy’s head, entangling it into his hair, and pulled Davy back into a kiss.

Davy was reeling. His face was so hot from blush that he thought the heat might kill him. He mourned the loss of the feeling of Peter’s mouth against his when they finally broke apart.

“Boy, am I glad you didn’t go to England,” Peter smiled. He looked down in giddy embarrassment. He was smiling in the way that he always did whenever gigs were going well, or when he was joking around with Davy, or on the days they scraped together enough spare change to buy ice cream. Davy supposed he could add kissing him on the list of things that made Peter smile like that.

“Can I kiss you again?” Davy asked, his hands clinging to the back of Peter’s neck.

“You can kiss me as many times as you like,” Peter answered. And he did.


End file.
